Page 16 of Asmodel

The harsh environment had weathered and worn the exterior, which blended seamlessly with the surrounding decay. Graffiti adorned the walls over paint faded under the relentless sun.

Makeshift lights, cobbled together from scavenged parts, hung above the entrance sign, casting a weak glow onto the uneven, cracked pavement below.

Patched metal and remnants of other building materials reinforced the main door. A series of mismatched windows, some clear, others opaque with age, allowed brief glimpses of the lively camaraderie inside. The muffled sounds of laughter and music could be heard, while spirited debates echoed into the dark street.

At the entrance stood a massive humanoid guard who gave them a steady glare. When they approached, he didn’t say a word, just kept his steely three-eyed gaze fixated on them as they crossed the threshold.

Inside, the pub was a stark contrast to the biting despair outside. The air was thick with the aroma of spiced meats and hearty stews simmering in the kitchen, layered with the sweet undertones of fermented brews. The vapor from oil lamps and the occasional whiff of some type of recreational smoke added an earthy depth that gave the place rustic comfort. An occasional draft from the patched-up windows and door caused a decided chill that the small fire pits dotted around the room couldn’t warm.

Laughter and conversations of clandestine agreements permeated around them. Dark figures lurked in the shadows as grizzled space mercenaries made deals with enigmatic beings cloaked in hoods. A band of multi-limbed musicians on an elevated stage occupied one corner. The sounds were disorienting instead of soothing.

Asmodel wasn’t fooled. No one missed the moment he and his brother entered. Even without using his psionic perception, he sensed keen eyes fixated on them. Violence might not be tolerated here, but that wouldn’t protect them once they left.

He glanced around the busy room. Yeah, this felt right. The person who was supposed to help him was here.

Asmodel stayed vigilant, his eyes scanning the room full of aliens. He focused on those with a dangerous vibe, sensing the greed and anticipation swirling around him like a palpable force. “Arakiba would love this place,” he told Abalim.

“No doubt.” His brother agreed and headed to an open space at the bar.

“How is Abalim going to converse with that alien being?” JR13 asked from his perch on Asmodel’s shoulder.

“We were injected with a universal translator by the Zerin before we left.” Asmodel stood behind his brother and watched the room with his arms crossed. No need to invite someone to sneak up on Abalim and try to steal from him. Or stab him in the back for fun.

“Yes, patron? How may I assist?”

Asmodel couldn’t watch the bartender when he spoke, but winced at the lyrical tone the large being had. The pitch was just high enough to give him a headache.

“I’m looking for Captain Saphira. Would you know if she’s here?”

Asmodel jerked and glanced at the back of Abalim’s head. Who in the hell was Captain Saphira?

A small alien with a billowing cloak approached, heading straight for Abalim. The short, wiry creature was around three feet tall with a hoodie over its head, leaving a good portion of his face hidden in the depths. Visible was the creature’s mottled facial skin in a putrid shade of green with scaly patches. Large bug eyes with irises in a strange mixture of orange and red gleamed with intelligence.

Since Asmodel didn’t sense any hostilities from it, he moved to the side and let the creature stand at Abalim’s back. Served the ass right for not filling him in on whoever this captain was.

“What do yer want ‘er for?”

When Abalim jumped in surprise, Asmodel snorted.

He got a glare from his brother.

I think Arakiba is rubbing off on you.Abalim’s tone had a slight warning to it.

Asmodel shrugged.Not my fault your JR is falling down on the job.Hey, he wasn’t the only one who was supposed to protect Abalim.

After giving Asmodel a dry glare, Abalim turned to the little alien. “Rerqel from Qorath sent me here to obtain passage to their planet from her.”

“Fer the both o’ ya?” The alien glanced at Asmodel before turning back to Abalim.

A strong negative psychic wave hit Asmodel before the alien spoke his last word. His head jerked up as he took in his surroundings. Something tugged him in the opposite direction. “No. My path lies elsewhere,” he murmured.

This time a separate force from the front door told him time was running out.

“As a matter of fact, my destiny just arrived.”

Without looking back, instinct led him to the far corner of the room, away from the front.

You going to be okay?Abalim asked on their private telepathic connection.

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